"I should have said it."
Kaito murmured while looking out the window.
"Said what?" Sora asked.
"Yesterday, when the club senior was retiring. I wanted to thank them properly, but I couldn't."
Mira nodded quietly, as if she had the same experience.
"Why couldn't you?" Sora asked.
"It was... embarrassing," Kaito said quietly.
"Embarrassment or regret—which is bigger?"
Kaito thought. "Now, regret is bigger."
"That's the cost of unexpressed emotion," Sora explained.
"Unexpressed emotion?"
"Emotions that aren't expressed. They don't disappear; they remain as regret or guilt."
Mira wrote in her notebook: "Unexpressed emotions never die. They are buried and come forth later in uglier ways."
"Freud's words," Sora acknowledged.
Kaito smiled wryly. "Coming out in uglier ways—that's really true."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm irritated now. With myself and everyone around me."
"That's displacement of suppressed emotion," Sora pointed out.
"Displacement?"
"Emotion that couldn't be directed at its proper target gets redirected elsewhere."
Mira wrote again: "Fear of rejection → silence → regret → displaced anger"
"Fear of rejection is the beginning?" Kaito was surprised.
"Yes. Fear of being rejected by your senior prevented expression."
"But being rejected for saying thanks..."
"Logically, yes. But emotions aren't logical."
Sora drew a diagram.
"Fear of emotional expression has several elements: fear of rejection, fear of showing weakness, fear that the emotion is too big."
"Emotion too big..." Kaito repeated.
"Expressing strong emotion feels like losing control. So you suppress it."
Mira nodded. She seemed to know the same fear.
"But if suppressing leads to regret, what's the point?" Kaito said.
"That's the cognitive distortion. Suppressing avoids 'present discomfort.' But 'future regret' is hard to imagine."
"Temporal discounting," Mira said quietly.
"Exactly," Sora acknowledged. "To avoid small present pain, you accept larger future pain."
Kaito sighed. "So what should I have done?"
"Don't seek perfect words," Sora answered.
"Not perfect is okay?"
"Perfectionism also blocks expression. The pressure of 'I have to say it right' ends up preventing you from saying anything."
Mira wrote in her notebook: "Better done than perfect"
"Even imperfectly, express it. That prevents regret."
Kaito asked, "Is it too late now?"
"Emotions don't have expiration dates," Sora smiled.
"Really?"
"Send a message, write a letter, say it next time you meet. There are countless ways."
Mira nodded. Then she tore a page from her notebook and gave it to Kaito.
It said: "I also have things I couldn't say. Let's say them now."
Kaito was surprised. "Mira too?"
Mira smiled slightly.
Sora said, "Everyone has things they couldn't say. But we can say them now."
Kaito took out his smartphone. "I'll message my senior."
"What will you write?"
"It doesn't have to be perfect, so... 'I couldn't say it yesterday, but thank you so much.'"
"That's enough," Sora nodded.
Kaito sent the message. He felt a bit lighter.
Mira was also looking at her smartphone. Surely, she was about to send words to someone too.
"Regret of not speaking is healed by speaking now," Sora said quietly.
"Even if it's not perfect?"
"Because it's not perfect, it's human."
The three resolved to send their words to their respective recipients.
Regret is healed by action. Even if it's late.